


Good

by LovesBitca8



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Co-workers, Come Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Edging, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Sub Hermione Granger, no infidelity, no non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-01-13 15:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21154373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesBitca8/pseuds/LovesBitca8
Summary: He stood, buttoned his robes, and came around her desk to lean against the front. “Blaise told me you’re looking for something specific.”She blinked at him, wondering if she could reach for the emergency Portkey she kept in her shelves and disappear to St. Mungo’s before he could stop her. Her mouth opened, voice beginning to squeak a response.“And I just wanted to drop by,” he cut her off and tilted his head, “and say that I’m flattered. But I won’t be taking you on.”“That’s—that’s not—what?”“I don’t think we’d be a good fit,” he said simply, like he was interviewing her for a secretary position.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raven_maiden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/gifts).

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET CUPCAKE. :) This is my Dom Draco fic that I teased a year ago, and I thought it would be appropriate to dedicate it to [ raven_maiden ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/) for her birthday. She is the D to my s. 
> 
> Thank you to [ Graendoll ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendoll) for Beta'ing, and [ monsterleadmehome ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome) for Beta and moodboard!
> 
> If you're not feeling up to reading some new kinks, that's fine fam. Just move along. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

"And he _slapped_ me. Hermione! He _slapped_ me."

"Mm, yes, I heard you."

"_Me! _And I _let_ him." Ginny sloshed her drink around its glass as she gestured to the room with a _Come on! Do you believe this?_ expression. "Hermione," Ginny said, placing her glass back on the tabletop, leveling a direct stare at her. "I came. _So_ hard."

"That's great, Ginny."

"So many times."

"Happy for you."

"Like... maybe seven."

"Sounds like a keeper." Hermione looked around the bar, wondering if anyone else was as uncomfortable as she was to hear that her friend was getting beat up in the bedroom.

"Oh, no." Ginny laughed, shaking her head and gesturing to the bartender for another. "Zabini and I aren't _dating_ or anything." She squished her face together and whispered, "Merlin forbid."

"A bit of fun is completely normal—"

"But I mean," Ginny continued. "It's _insane _—the things he can do to my body. I never thought I'd let anyone treat me like that in bed, but I really, really like it. It's so freeing to just do what he says and just… orgasm."

"Sure."

Hermione sipped her drink, enjoying another Friday evening out with Ginny Weasley. Ginny Weasley who'd had more sex in the last month than Hermione had seen in her life.

"Hermione." Ginny set down her empty glass and took her hand as if she was about to tell her the secret to life. "You need to try it."

Grimacing, she squeezed Ginny's hand and said, "It really doesn't sound like my thing, Gin."

"Does it seem like it's _mine_?" Ginny laughed. "Hermione, you're so busy at work and always volunteering your time. You deserve some stress relief!"

"This is my stress relief. Going out on Fridays with you!"

"Hermione. I'm talking about a different _kind_ of stress relief."

"I know, Ginny."

"A _physical_ kind—"

"I get it."

"A _release_—"

"Ginny—"

"Sex, Hermione. I'm talking about _sex._"

"Got it. Thank you for clarifying."

Ginny flashed the bartender a flirty wink and turned back to Hermione. "When was the last time you had a decent shag?"

Hermione cast her eyes about for eavesdroppers before tugging at her buttoned sleeves and saying, "I had a lovely time with Seamus that once."

"_Lovely time?_" Ginny pulled a face and knocked back the entirety of her second martini while Hermione played with her olive. "Merlin's tits, Hermione. When was the last time you had an orgasm that you didn't give yourself?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and her mouth opened to respond that… to respond that… _well, fuck._

She blinked down at her olive, swimming by itself in a pool of gin. Surely Seamus had gotten her off… or perhaps McLaggen had, when he'd used his fingers in the back of the Knight Bus that drunken night?

"Well?"

"I'm… trying to recall."

Ginny's eyes widened, and Hermione watched the pity form in her expression. "Oh, _Merlin_—"

"It's not like I don't have good sex!" she huffed. "I do. I have _great_ sex!"

The old man with a grey beard on the other side of Ginny gave her a once over, and even he seemed unconvinced.

Hermione lowered her voice and continued, "It's just that… if I know how to get myself off, why leave it in _their_ hands? Missing an opportune orgasm can really ruin the evening, so — so if I can just… _reach down_ and give myself a hand…"

Ginny stared at her like she was a sideshow attraction, the olive pick hanging limply from her parted lips. "Oh no, no, no. This won't do. This won't do at all." Ginny signaled to the bartender with a gesture infused with such confidence that Hermione couldn't dream of mastering it. She plucked a Muggle pen from her handbag and wrote on the bar napkin. "This is Zabini's address. Floo him when you get home, and just say you're looking for a bit of _relaxation_—"

"Ginny! I can't just… _sleep with your boyfriend!_"

"He's not my boyfriend! We're not at all exclusive. He has _multiple_ partners and he'd _love_ to hear from you."

Hermione gaped at her, wrapping her mind around actively sharing a sexual partner with a close friend. It was all very… modern.

"I wouldn't be comfortable with that, Ginny. I'm sorry." She stared down into her gin and said, "I don't have a problem with casual sex, really. But I couldn't enjoy myself if the bloke was seeing _multiple_ people."

Ginny lifted a teasing brow. "Well, that _is_ casual sex," she said with a laugh, and then her eyes widened. "Oh! OH!"

Looking at the ginger over the top of her martini glass, Hermione winced and said, "What?"

"Oh wow." Ginny looked like she'd discovered the secrets to the universe. "I've had the most brilliant idea. Malfoy."

The phrases didn't connect in Hermione's mind, so she took a moment to ask Ginny to clarify, convinced she'd clearly just suffered an aneurysm.

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny said slowly. "He's a Dom, like Blaise. He takes on a new sub every month."

It was Hermione's turn for an aneurysm. "He's a… and he's… Malfoy?"

"Oh, you two would be delicious together!" Ginny signed the check without even consulting Hermione and started to drag her off the stool towards the Floo. "There's all that sexy history—"

"Sexy history? I'm failing to recall which parts were sexy—"

"And he's _gorgeous_. I mean, have you _seen_ him around the Ministry?"

She had. He was.

His features weren't so pointed as they were in school, and he dressed in the nicest suits his money could buy, highlighting his lean body. He greeted her in the mornings in the lift with a smirk and a lifted brow and asked her about her weekends with a smarmy grin. She shared meetings with him and watched his fingers twirl his quill with a deft technique that had her wondering things—

But he was also still an insufferable arse who believed he knew better than anyone else, taunting her about her failed projects and his celebrated successes. He had a cool temper that surfaced whenever he was bested. It didn't surprise her one bit that Draco Malfoy liked to tie girls up on the weekends and slap them around. No, what truly surprised her was Ginny's suggestion.

"Ginny… Draco Malfoy wouldn't sleep with me."

Scoffing, Ginny said, "Trust me, Hermione. Men aren't _nearly _as picky as we assume them to be."

Ginny grabbed the vase of Floo powder, and before she could toss a handful into the fire, Hermione caught her wrist.

"No, no. I mean… He was quite the bully to me, if you remember. Never said a kind word to me in my life—"

"Well, it doesn't sound like your relationship will change much then," Ginny said, grinning widely at her.

"This can't be healthy. To — to have a childhood bully"—her voice dropped lower—"_dominate_ you in the bedroom."

"Well, who _would_ you ask to do it?" Ginny laughed. "Harry? Ron?"

Hermione's face scrunched in disgust, and she shook her head. "I'm not _asking anyone_ to do it. _You're_ the one pushing me to get strung from the ceiling."

Ginny dropped her arm, Floo powder sprinkling all over the stones. "'Strung from the ceiling?' My, my. What an active imagination we have," she said, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just want you to experience this great thing that I'm experiencing. I think you'd like it."

"I'll think about it Ginny."

Hermione leaned in for a hug, squeezing Ginny to her. Ginny gasped and jerked away. "Sorry. Nipples are quite sore."

Hermione blinked down at her and nodded in bewilderment as she stepped through the Floo.

~*~

The following Monday, Hermione sat at her desk at the Ministry after finishing the final crouton on the salad she crunched on every day precisely at half-past noon. She usually ate at her desk, never one to socialize when there was research or work to do. Occasionally Harry or Ron would drop by her office, but it was becoming rarer and rarer as each of them now had significant others to dote on.

She pushed her quill and ink pot back into their positions and took her trash to the rubbish bin in the kitchenette area, passing co-workers who were nowhere near the ends of their lunches even as the clock ticked.

Turning the corner back into her private office, she jumped to find Draco Malfoy sitting in her desk chair, twirling her quill.

"Officer Granger."

Her mind flew to whips and chains and satin sheets and bruised nipples before anchoring back to the present.

"There's no need for 'Officer,' Mr. Malfoy." She clasped her hands, dropped them, clasped them again, and then decided to fold them behind her back. "I am not an Auror, I simply work on the files."

"Noted," he said. His grey eyes hadn't left her face from the moment she stepped inside. "Well then with all due respect, I'd prefer 'Counselor Malfoy'. If you wouldn't mind terribly."

Her blood simmered and her eyes narrowed. At twenty-five he'd become the youngest Counselor on the Wizengamot in four hundred years. How could she forget.

"Of course, _Counselor_. What brings you by?"

He'd never come directly to her for anything work-related, so as she stood awkwardly in her own doorway, she felt a twisting, sickly feeling in her stomach.

He stood, buttoned his robes, and came around her desk to lean against the front. "Blaise told me you're looking for something specific."

She blinked at him, wondering if she could reach for the emergency Portkey she kept in her shelves and disappear to St. Mungo's before he could stop her. Her mouth opened, voice beginning to squeak a response.

"And I just wanted to drop by," he cut her off and tilted his head, "and say that I'm flattered. But I won't be taking you on."

"That's—that's not—what?"

"I don't think we'd be a good fit," he said simply, like he was interviewing her for a secretary position.

"I… I wasn't…" She took a steady breath and said, "I wasn't interested. Ginny was prying and jumped to conclusions." She sneered at him. "I wasn't going to ever approach you—"

"Nor should you. The Dominant should approach _you_." He lifted a haughty brow at her, like scolding her for not playing by the rules. She opened her mouth to bite back when he cut in, "If you would like, I could introduce you to a few groups where Doms and subs meet and get to know each other—"

"No! No, no." She smoothed her skirt. "Er, no. No thank you."

"So that's a no, then?" he deadpanned.

She glared at him. "I am not interested in that… um, lifestyle. So, it's unnecessary."

His brows lifted playfully. "Oh, so it's _me_ you were interested in?" Her jaw dropped open, and she tried to string together a response before he cut in and said, "It's alright, Granger. Your secret's safe with me." He stood from her desk with a wink, moving to leave.

She sputtered, "That's… not at all what I meant."

"Apologies that it couldn't work out," he said, running a hand through his hair in that obnoxious way that drew everyone's gaze.

Her blood simmered. "I'm sure you're all booked for the next month. Already have a girl hanging by her thumbs in your dungeon."

He turned to her, lifting a brow, a smirk tugging his lips. "Have you done _any_ research on Dominant/submissive relationships, Hermione Granger?" The way his voice curled around her name made her feel like she was back at Hogwarts, being reprimanded for not doing her reading.

"I… I didn't need to. I knew I wasn't interested."

His eyes slid over her and she felt it burn across her covered skin. "You know, I never said you'd be a poor submissive. I simply said we wouldn't match."

She tried to button her mouth closed but it slipped out all the same. "And why is that?"

A gleam in his eyes, like he'd gotten what he wanted. "You're too green for me, Granger." His hand on the doorknob as he said, "You're uninformed. A shame, really."

His gaze danced over her one last time before exiting, closing the door softly behind him like he'd never been there at all.

~*~

The internet held a magic all of its own — something that magical folk would never condescend to use. While Hermione had missed a lot of the technological advances while she was at Hogwarts, she still knew her way around a computer. At least she thought she did, until a site called DomDaddy sent her a virus wiping out her entire hard drive.

She took her desktop computer to a shop, and went to the library instead, creeping through the aisles like a thief. Something about the way Malfoy called her "uninformed" had gotten under her skin. She was _never_ uninformed.

Closing a book entitled _Naughty Nautical Knots_, Hermione huffed and stared out the window. Why she had decided to spend her Tuesday evening looking up Dominant and submissive relationships was beyond her. Malfoy was getting under her skin — more so than usual. Her skin felt tight whenever she thought about their conversation in her office. Slipping the book back on the shelf with a glance over her shoulder, she resolved herself to go home and not think of ropes or blindfolds or Draco Malfoy again.

~*~

"He spanked me, Hermione. Like a _child_," Ginny whispered theatrically, holding her martini with both hands like a bowl of soup.

"And… was that sexually stimulating?" Hermione asked with a wince.

"Oh, fuck yes."

Hermione frowned, biting off her olive and chomping petulantly.

"Hermione. He used my arse as a punching bag."

"I've got the idea, Ginny."

"I have a picture of the bruise."

"I don't need to see it."

"It's _black_, Hermione—"

"Ginny." Hermione stopped her and leveled a stare at her friend. "What is it that you find so arousing about that kind of experience?"

Ginny blinked at her with a smile. "Oh, being spanked is lovely, Hermione. You really have to try it some time." She tossed back the rest of her martini, signaling for another. "Besides, it's not always the spanking itself, it's the moments after. The way he takes care of me."

Hermione sighed, feeling inexplicably itchy today. "So he hurts you, and then apologizes for it. That's how this works?"

Ginny's eyes snapped to her at her judgmental tone. "I suppose if that's how you want to see it. But he doesn't do anything I don't want him to do. We have boundaries and rules. There's nothing dangerous about it."

She hated not understanding things, and it seemed like this was going to be a long road for her. She breathed deeply, took another sip of her martini, and said, "So what is it you get out of it?"

"Hm. Well, I suppose my favorite thing about it is that I don't have to think of my own pleasure. Someone else is looking out for me, and ensuring that I enjoy myself."

"Couldn't you get the same from a… a more normal relationship? With a trusted companion?"

"I haven't yet," Ginny scoffed. "Just think about it Hermione! We're not splitting the cheque at the restaurant. We're not arguing about what to do on the weekends. We're not searching pockets for proof of betrayal! We're just getting each other off, and then going our separate ways. And he _enjoys _getting me off. So I'm guaranteed to come at least twice."

_Twice_. Hermione's brows lifted. She could barely come _once_ when she was by herself. She couldn't imagine having a second orgasm wrenched from her.

"So…" Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "Zabini is going to meet me here in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Sure." Hermione tried not to feel as if she'd been ditched. "No, that's fine. I'll just finish up and then—"

"You can stay!" Ginny grabbed her arm. "I didn't mean you have to leave. Just that he's going to grab a drink." She flagged the bartender. "Do you want another? I have to drink quickly. He doesn't like it when I've had more than one."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, about to say something, before she decided to let it go, declining the drink. She'd read up on the "daddy" aspect of all of this, and found herself completely disgusted with that route.

Ginny rambled on about work at the_ Prophet_ and Skeeter's latest meltdown, all while keeping her eye on the door. Hermione grew quieter and quieter, glad to listen and try to understand. She watched Ginny's eyes brighten momentarily with a glance to the opening door, before continuing with her story. Zabini must have arrived.

When she took a breath for air, Hermione said, "Did you want to say hello?"

"Oh, no," Ginny said, waving her off. "He'll come to me. He'll be put out that I didn't go running to him." She wiggled her brows. "Besides, I need to flirt with the bartender a bit first."

Hermione turned her head and found Zabini — more handsome than she'd remembered — at the other end of the bar, talking to the blond prick who'd walked in with him — the bane of her existence for the past week. Hermione's heart sped up, and her cheeks flushed. Downing the rest of her drink as Ginny leaned over the bar to speak with the tall bloke serving drinks, Hermione excused herself to the restroom so Ginny could continue whatever game she was playing.

She waited for one of two bathroom doors to open and squeezed past the girl tottering by in her too-high heels. Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, Hermione patted down her flushed cheeks.

Was she hiding from Draco Malfoy in a bathroom? Possibly.

But why was he here? Trying to pick up his next "rope bunny?" (She'd learned that term on the internet.)

She resigned herself to throwing down a few coins on the bar, saying goodbye to Ginny, and strutting out the door — quickly.

Yanking open the door, she stopped dead to see Malfoy leaning against the opposite wall, eyes flickering up to her with a smug grin.

"Granger. What a surprise."

"Malfoy," she greeted and tried stepping out of his way to scurry back to her handbag and coat.

"_Counselor_ Malfoy, if you please."

He winked at her, and she ground her teeth. Spinning back and unable to hold her tongue, she said, "No. I don't think so. As we are not at the Ministry, and as I am not _beholden _to you by any kind of _submissive_ relationship, I shall call you whatever I like."

His brows shot up, and his lips twitched. "Sensitive subject for you, Granger?"

"Not at all," she said, sticking her nose in the air. "In fact, I've done some research on the topic — now that someone has called me _green_ — and I found that I was right. It's not for me."

Tilting his head, his eyes scanned her, dropping over her collarbones and chest before dipping down to her hips. "And why's that? What kind of _research_ did you do?"

She planted her feet and crossed her arms. "I looked it up. On the internet and at the library."

His eyes returned to her face and a gleeful expression crossed his face. "Oh really? Hermione Granger looking at dirty pictures in the library?"

"Not dirty pictures. Articles. Books. I wasn't watching pornography, if that's what you mean."

"Ah." He smirked. "So you've done _reading_. Any plans to do any practical research, Granger?"

"No." She scowled. "I'm not _prowling_ for a Dom, Malfoy." She stomped away, back towards the bar, looking forward to a hot bath and a glass of wine and a good book and _not_ thinking about him again—

"Just because I declined is no reason to give up—"

"And why?" She hissed. "Why not 'take me on,' as you said?"

She watched his eyes flicker and felt her cheeks heat. She should have just kept walking — past the bar and out the door.

"I don't take on inexperienced subs," he said, leaning casually on the wall in a way that highlighted the long lines of his torso. "It's the responsibility of it all. Teaching the intricacies of submissive relationships can be quite taxing as well, especially since I try to experience a new sub every month."

"But you already know I'm a quick learner—" Her jaw shut quickly, but it was too late. The smirk. The damn smirk was back. She was practically begging Draco Malfoy to tie her up and flog her to death. "Oh god."

She spun on her heel, ready to run, when she heard, "Granger, how many drinks have you had?"

Huffing, she said, "I've had one, thank you. Is alcohol moderation part of this whole thing? It's ridiculous, really."

He stood tall again, and pushed open the bathroom door. "It's just that I'd like to know if you're drunk before I invite you into this bathroom with me."

She felt her cheeks burn and her skin vibrate. "No," she said in a small voice. "I'm not drunk."

He hummed, and disappeared into the small room. Hermione stood still as stone before her shaking legs carried her through the door he was holding open for her.

She'd just been in this restroom just moments ago, but it looked much different. Suddenly it was too small and too hot, and the mirror carried Draco Malfoy's reflection as well, which was… very strange. She watched him watch her in the mirror, one hand playing with a ring on his finger.

"When was the last time you had sex, Granger?"

Well. Right to it. "Um. It's… Probably a few months?" Her neck turned red with embarrassment. She watched the blush stain under her ears and jaw.

"How many? A number, please?" He stared at her calmly, still twisting his ring.

Her gaze fell to the sink instead of her reflection as she counted out the months between Seamus and now. "Four."

"And how long since you last made yourself come?"

Hermione's eyes widened at the very clean sink, watching the water drip slowly from the faucet. "Excuse me?" She looked up to find him stepping up behind her.

"When was your last orgasm?"

"That's… hardly your business, Malfoy."

"I plan to make it my business." His voice was low, shivering her skin.

She stepped away from the sink, unable to watch the two of them in the mirror. "Sunday. I… touch myself on the weekends, usually."

She didn't hear any judgement in his voice when he said, "So you haven't come in five days?"

Shaking her head, she glanced up at him and had to quickly look away when she saw the warm look in his eyes.

"And do you use a toy? Or your fingers?"

A sharp laugh burst from her chest, and she took a step back as he advanced. "That's not really… I don't…" She was blushing like a school girl at the mention of sex. Hermione buttoned her lips and met Malfoy's eyes, watching her patiently. "I used to have a toy. But the batteries wore down. I, um… I suppose I should look into magical toys, but—"

"That's alright," he whispered. There was a fire in his eyes, but any of the mockery she usually associated with conversations with Draco Malfoy was absent. "Both methods are equally fine."

She nodded her head a bit too forcefully, feeling her curls bounce. "And uh… what about you?" She gestured to him flippantly, immediately regretting the stupidity of that question.

His eyes crinkled in a smile, something she'd never seen before. "When was the last time _I_ came?"

"Right. No need to answer—"

"This morning."

She nodded down at their shoes, something twisting in her stomach as she said, "Right. Your current sub?" She tried not to imagine a girl tied to his bed at this very moment, waiting for him to return—

"No," he said softly. "I don't have a sub right now."

"Oh." Her breath felt shallow in her chest. "Alright. Is this my interview?" She laughed lightly.

"Something like that." His hand reached for her cheek, and she gasped to feel his fingertips on her skin, tilting her face up. She met his eyes — dark and excited. "You think you can follow instructions?"

Her pulse thrummed, and the very real possibility of doing this, _here_, had her lips curling into a smile. "You know I've always been a rule follower."

"Very well. On your knees, Granger."

She blinked at him, feeling a bit lost. She should have known, really, that Draco Malfoy would aim to humiliate her. That it wouldn't be about her. It would be about him.

He smirked at her. "Do you have a problem with that? We can always stop."

Whatever spell she'd been under while Draco Malfoy asked about her sex life and spoken to her softly about her orgasms had just been broken.

"I just… Is this how it will be?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Granger," he said with a smirk. "Did you think you were the only one getting off in this arrangement?"

She glared at him, wondering what she was willing to do. She wasn't particularly fond of oral sex. Cormac had enjoyed it quite a bit and usually was finished with her once he came, claiming to be too tired or sometimes trying with half the effort to finish her. But was this something all Doms and subs did?

"Generally, I like to be with a partner who likes to give as well as receive," Malfoy said. "So if that's not what you're looking for in this, I understand."

She frowned at him. Ginny liked this. Quite a lot. Perhaps Zabini treated her differently because they weren't old school rivals, but Ginny claimed to get off multiple times in one evening. And Hermione wondered what that was like.

Lowering to her knees in the small space between their bodies, she steadied herself on his stomach, feeling his muscles twitch under her fingers.

She reached for his belt buckle, focusing on keeping her fingers steady, before he stopped her with a soft grip on her wrist. The light from the ceiling shone through his hair as he looked down at her.

"I haven't given you instructions," he whispered, his consonants crisp and vowels low and breathy. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. He shifted her hands away, starting to unbutton himself. "Hands behind your back."

Blinking up at him, distracted by his deft fingers, it took her a few moments to hear him properly. "Behind my back?"

"Mm-hmm." His trousers were open, and he pushed them to hang low on his hips. "Those are the instructions."

She waited for him to peel down his black briefs or pull himself out. He didn't. Instead, the bulge faced her down.

"How am I expected to work with this?" She snorted, looking up to find him grinning down at her.

"Think of it like a puzzle, Granger. I know you love puzzles." His eyes gleamed at her, and his fists tightened at his sides, like he was keeping from reaching for her.

Hermione brought her gaze back to his crotch, watching him twitch in his briefs. She sat up on her knees, and her hands started to reach for his hips before she remembered, and clasped them behind her back. Before she moved closer, he breathed out, "Good."

The affirmation was soft and pleased, not condescending like she would have associated with this moment. She ignored a shiver spreading across her shoulders and leaned in, pressing her face to the bulge in front of her.

She felt like an idiot — rubbing her face into his crotch. She probably needed to use her teeth to pull down his briefs. Her hands twitched behind her back, logic warring with instructions. Stretching up, she tried to bite the elastic band clinging low to his hips to drag it down. She struggled a bit, the band snapping to his skin every time she failed. Malfoy's stomach muscles tightened and released, his breath coming quicker, and she felt his erection grow against her chin.

She huffed, feeling defeated, and leaned back to frown at the cock-shaped problem in front of her. Considering him for a moment, she realized he was… large. Which was aggravating. It would be much more of a consolation for this failed blow job if she could say, _Oh, well. He had a small prick anyway_.

Eyeing the opening in the front, she leaned in, teeth pulling softly at the fabric. Malfoy gasped quietly, and she looked up to find him staring hotly at her, face tense and concentrated.

In her limited number of blow jobs she'd given, Hermione had never experienced someone watching her like Malfoy was. Cormac would lie back, eyes closed and resting while she did all the work. Her one experience with Ron was disastrous, but also another case of him not watching her, saying it was "too much." And then he came, without warning.

Malfoy watched her like her battle with his briefs was the Quidditch World Cup. Her skin felt hot, encouraging her to hold his gaze while she pressed an open-mouth kiss to the tent in his briefs. His lips twitched.

"Good."

Her lashes fluttered up at him as she breathed deep, ready to continue working his cock out of his briefs. His hand reached forward and cupped her cheek while his other reached into the elastic, pulling out his cock. He opened his smirking mouth, but Hermione beat him to it.

"What are you doing? I didn't win." Her shoulders ached with the strain of keeping them behind her back. She had just spent several minutes attempting to work him out of his pants, and now he'd jumped ahead?

"You did in my book," he said, smiling. "I wanted to see if you'd actually try."

His hand began stroking himself. She blinked up at him, doing her best to ignore his movements. "Oh. Did I look ridiculous then?"

"No. The opposite."

From the corner of her eye, she found his thumb rubbing circles around his head. She swallowed, and allowed her eyes to drift back to the task at hand. She was about to lean in again and begin when he stopped her.

"One thing before you start." His voice was low, echoing lightly in the small bathroom. His other hand brushed her cheek, and he said, "I have one rule for all my partners." She stared up at him, ready to hear something ridiculous or insulting or demeaning. His eyes burned into hers, and he said, "I get to come wherever I want."

She almost corrected him to "whenever," because that made more sense to her, when she suddenly had the image of her wearing his spend on her clothing or in her hair or—

"I'm not walking out into that bar with your come on my face."

He smiled, and directed his cock towards her mouth. "I'll clean you up first. Always."

She frowned, and looked down to consider whether she was going through with this. He seemed to be letting her decide, not pulling her face to him or forcing himself between her lips.

He was bigger than McLaggen. Thicker than Ron. She'd never had someone this big inside of her, much less her mouth. Fuck, she hated that he had every reason to be as arrogant as he was.

She looked back to his face, opened her lips, and let him push the tip into her mouth. His eyes were hot as she closed over him, running her tongue over his head, pressing lightly underneath. One of his hands braced himself on the wall behind her, his other dropping from her jaw to fist at his hip.

When she released him with a soft pressure on the tip, she regretted it immediately, as she didn't have her hands to bring him back to her mouth. She felt like an idiot, losing her straw in her glass or bobbing for apples as she dipped her chin to bring him back into her mouth. Her cheeks burned, and she glanced up to gauge how humiliated she should feel.

_Not at all_, was the answer to that. Malfoy's eyes hadn't left her, and he wasn't laughing. Hermione's skin was hot and her stomach was twisting with something dark.

She let her tongue slide along his length, licking up and over, feeling him twitch and grow. She took him in her mouth again, letting her lips slide up and back, bobbing her head and pressing her tongue to him.

His breath grew louder, and when she looked up to check on him, her lips still wrapped around his cock, she found him leaning heavily on the wall, staring down at her still.

"You look beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

Her brows narrowed, and she wanted to snort a laugh. What a stupid thing to say.

"Used to think about this at Hogwarts, Granger," he continued. "Used to wonder if I could shut you up with my cock. Or if you'd still try talking with your mouth full."

A blush rose in her cheeks, and she pulled her mouth off of him. "That's despicable," she spat.

He chuckled. "It's true. I'd sit in Binns' class and watch you answer questions and jump up and down, and I wondered if you'd bounce like that on my cock." He winked at her and she scowled back. "Give me your hands."

She paused at the change of subject, and released her sweating hands from behind her back. He took them and placed them on the outside of his knees.

"If you need to stop, or if you don't like it, tap me."

She blinked down at her hands, not fully understanding. And then his hands were tilting her jaw up with a gentle nudge, his cock was back on her lips, and his fingers were slipping into the hair behind her ear, holding her still as his hips pushed forward.

She braced herself, closing her eyes, preparing for something pornographic and brutal.

Shallow thrusts. His fingertips tracing lines across her cheek. Soft pants from above her.

"Look up at me."

Her lids fluttered open, and her vision cleared. A pink blush dabbling across his marble skin, spotting high on his cheekbones and flushing his neck.

"Can you take a little more?"

She blinked up at him. His thrusts were slow and gentle, so she squeezed his thighs in response.

"Good."

He tilted her head back to rest on the wall and stepped closer. She breathed deeply through her nose, feeling her skin buzzing with anticipation as his fingers curled in her hair. He slid in deeper, sliding across her tongue, inching toward the back of her throat, before easing back. She watched him as he repeated this three more times before pausing and whispering, "Suck."

She did — her cheeks hollowing and her tongue curling under him. His lips parted as he watched her, his hips fighting to stay still. She breathed deep, releasing him, and he continued to pump into her, faster, but still not too deep.

"Can you take a little more?" he repeated, panting.

She froze, unsure. He still hadn't slid all the way into her mouth, and she knew she would choke on him. His thumb rubbed her cheek, and he twitched on her tongue, growing larger, leaking into the back of her mouth.

He was thrusting shallowly, staring down at her with dark eyes. She felt a stirring in her belly, the same she'd feel when it was just her breath and her fingers in the darkness, her hips wanting something more.

She squeezed his thighs again, and that smirk returned.

The pressure on her face increased, holding her still. He slid back on her tongue, further and further. She swallowed on instinct, closing her eyes, trying not to hold her breath. He moaned — the first blatant moan from him.

"Fuck," he cursed, and she listened to it bounce around the room with her eyes still pressed shut.

He slid against her tongue, slipping forward and back, crowding her mouth and pressing into the back of her throat. Her eyes started to water, and she started to panic—

She hit the sides of his legs with her palm. And before she could tap again, he was pulling out.

Her eyes opened, expecting to find him disappointed in her, but as she blinked her tears away his hands grabbed her ribs, hauling her to her feet. She gasped, and before she could ask any questions, his lips were on hers, his hands dragging her face up to his as his tongue fucked her mouth like his cock just had.

Holding onto his shoulders and trying to catch her breath, she tried to kiss him back, but he was savage against her mouth, his cock pressed tight between their bodies.

"Thank you," he whispered into her. "Thank you."

She started to say something asinine, like _you're welcome_, but then he was at her trousers, ripping open her buttons, his hand sliding into her knickers. Gasping at the quick change of events, she swallowed the curse he pushed into her mouth.

"I knew it," he murmured as his fingers slipped through her. She wasn't sure when she'd become so wet, but it made Malfoy grind into her hip, and begin to swirl the moisture around her clit.

An "Oh!" burst from her lips before she could keep her worthless exclamations to herself, and he pressed his mouth to her neck as his fingers moved quick patterns on her clit and his cock jerked against her waist.

Her nails pushed into his shoulders, and she bit her lip as he sucked on her neck. His fingers slipped lower, circling her entrance and her hips started to writhe.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, her jaw dropping and her head falling back. She'd never had this kind of pleasure rolling through her with another person. Her knees began to buckle, thighs shaking.

"You gonna be mine, Granger?" he heaved into her ear. "You gonna be good for me?"

Her legs tried to twist away from him, her face tense — she wanted to push away from the brink of pleasure overwhelming her, feeling his hot breath on her neck and his finger slipping inside of her. Her hands came to his chest, pulling him closer and pushing him away at the same time.

He grabbed both wrists, twisting them up and over her head, holding them high against the wall so she stretched onto her toes while he added a second finger to her and his thumb rubbed frantically on her clit.

"You're so good," he whispered against her lips. "Can you be good for me?"

Her shouted agreement rattled her ribs, her air coming quickly as she tumbled over into pleasure, muttering, "_yes, yes, yes"_ as she came.

Her muscles were tight, her arms still held above her head. She opened her eyes as he removed his hand from her knickers. His face was pink and his eyes were like fire on her skin. He muttered a quick spell and her blouse sliced down the middle, opening to reveal her modest bra. She couldn't think fast enough to complain as she watched him wrap his drenched fingers around his cock and start a quick rhythm in his fist.

Mouth dropped open from bliss, she watched him pump himself, feeling the grip on her wrists tighten as his eyes dropped over her chest.

"So fucking beautiful," he growled, and with a sharp groan, his come hit her chest and stomach, splashing hot and cooling in the bathroom air as he panted and dropped his forehead to her neck.

Hermione stared at the opposite wall, panting as her mind came back to her. She'd just gotten off with Draco Malfoy in a bathroom at a bar. And his come was drying on her chest.

He lifted his head and loosed his hold on her wrists. His other hand reached up and as her arms floated back down he rubbed her wrists, a gentle massage. Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed across the thin skin, his fingers then rubbing into her upper arms and shoulders. She stood there and thought of Ginny, and how just thirty minutes ago she'd assumed that it was about hurting the sub and then apologizing.

It wasn't that at all. Her head felt clouded, but she thought maybe she understood how the roughness of it all could be massaged away. Like muscles you overworked, and then had to take care of the next day.

Malfoy looked up at her face and said, "Are you on a contraceptive potion?"

Hermione blinked quickly and nodded. "I have one I take monthly, but I can—"

He cleaned his come off her chest with two fingers, swiping through the mess, and before she could finish explaining he was pushing his hand back into her knickers and sliding his two fingers inside of her, pushing his come into her.

Her eyes widened, and her jaw opened mid-sentence. His gaze was hot and teasing as he said, "I don't want you to clean yourself up until you get home. I want you to walk through that bar and out to the fireplaces with my come inside of you, warming in your cunt. I want you to remember that every man who wants to fuck you out there can't have you, because my come is already inside of you."

Her throat squeaked, attempting to respond. And while she'd said nothing in agreement, he moved away to the sink as if she had. He wet a cloth with warm water and came back to clean her stomach and chest. The splatter of his come across her pale pink bra fascinated him for a few moments until he pulled his wand, cleaned the padding, and repaired the shirt.

She watched him clean himself and buttoned her trousers again, turning to the mirror to find a witch who'd just blown Draco Malfoy and came all over his fingers. Her lips were red and her hair was ragged. She ran her fingers through her curls as Malfoy came to stand behind her. Her hands paused as she looked at the two of them together in the mirror, her eyes shell-shocked and glassy.

"Sleep on it tonight," he said. "You answered me while my fingers were on your clit, so you should think on it with a clear head." He brushed his hair out of his eyes, and gave her a casual, "I'll owl you in the morning," before slipping out of the bathroom.

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror for several moments. He'd cleaned her up, so with nothing else to do, she washed her hands and exited, finding the bartender lifting a brow at her, holding her handbag, claiming that her redheaded friend had paid her tab and asked him to hold her stuff.

She grabbed her coat and bag, flew through the fireplace, and walked straight through her living and into her bedroom, thinking about what he'd said about his come the entire time.

When she finally showered, she gingerly cleaned herself and wondered if she regretted losing the scent of him and the dangerous joy of knowing he'd claimed her with his come inside of her. She wrapped herself in a towel and padded to her bedroom, an eagle owl was sitting on her windowsill. With shaking fingers, she opened the window and the bird dropped two boxes before sweeping out.

Her eyes widened when she found two different sex toys; one with a note that read, _Use this whenever you please,_ and one with the note — _Use this only when I tell you to._

Hermione sat on her bed, holding two phallic vibrators, thinking about how one of his first questions was about toys. Staring down at the one that had conditional usage, she thought, _how dare he._ She opened the packaging and got herself off two more times before falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Author claims no responsibility for any sensations or sexual fantasies The Reader may have as a result of engaging with this chapter at their place of employment. Lost wages or unemployment will not be the responsibility of The Author. 
> 
> Thank you to [ Graendoll ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendoll) and [ monsterleadmehome ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome) for Beta'ing.
> 
> I will update the tags as we go. Please check the tags before each chapter if you have squicks.
> 
> And not to toot my own horn, but you should really have a husband/wife/boyfriend/fuck boi/girlfriend/toy readily available before reading this chapter. It IS Valentine's Day after all.
> 
> Toot toot, motherfucker.

Hermione stared up at her bedroom ceiling, letting the previous night crash down on her.

She'd gone from having a simple evening of drinks with Ginny to sucking Draco Malfoy's cock in a public toilet.

And she might have signed up to be his submissive.

She groaned, dragged the covers up over her face, and curled into herself until she could block out the memory of his eyes. Especially the way they'd looked as she stared up at him from her knees, his cock between her lips.

_Can you take a little more?_

Hermione shifted her legs, relieving a little bit of the pressure that swirled low in her belly. She looked over at the purple toy that had gotten her off (twice) before she went to bed.

No. No, no.

Hermione sat up in bed, threw the covers off, and ran to splash cold water on her face. She was just finishing brushing her teeth when there was a knock at her door.

She poked her head out of her bathroom, listening carefully, praying she heard wrong.

After thirty tense seconds, the knock came again.

She padded down the hallway and went to look through the peephole.

Draco Fucking Malfoy was standing there, eyes on the glass with a smirk as if he knew she was looking back at him.

Her heart pounded. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe he was here to laugh at her for sucking him off in a toilet with her hands behind her back. Maybe he was here to tell her he'd reconsidered, and she wasn't truly that great at oral, so they should probably not continue this bloody stupid—

"Granger," he said. As if he knew she was just staring at him through the door. She felt his voice reverberate through the wood.

Hermione steeled herself and unlocked the bolts. She cracked open the door and met his smug expression.

"Morning."

She blinked at him. "What's… why?"

He lifted his brows at her, infinitely amused. "May I come in?"

She sighed and opened the door, ready for whatever fresh hell she was about to endure. He slid past her, smiling as he took in her pajamas and bare feet. Hermione flushed crimson.

"I wasn't expecting company," she began, but stopped when Malfoy crossed into her kitchen and placed two grocery bags on her counter.

"I couldn't be sure what you had already, so I just brought everything," he said, pulling out a carton of eggs.

She blinked at him. "Everything for what?"

He turned over his shoulder and smiled at her. "Breakfast."

She watched as he unpacked fruit, bacon, and orange juice. He summoned a frying pan from where it hung on the wall, and with a flick of his wand, set the stovetop to cooking. The eggs started cracking themselves into a bowl, whisking and mixing.

Hermione took a moment to press her nails into her palm, testing to see if she'd actually woken up this morning, or if she was currently in the midst of a very plausible nightmare where Draco Malfoy dropped by to cook breakfast while she looked like a swamp witch.

It would not be the first time she'd had this nightmare.

"You gonna stand there all morning, Granger?"

She jumped, moving quickly to sit in one of the tall chairs at her kitchen island.

"So you're…" She watched him tear open the package of bacon and start laying the slices in the pan. "Why are you here?" she finished rudely.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm cooking you breakfast."

"Yes. I see."

"I told you I'd come by in the morning."

"You… said you'd owl me."

"Did I? Apologies. May I?" His hand hovered over a cabinet.

"I… yes."

He pulled down salt and pepper. He grabbed her jar of tea leaves and set her kettle to boiling. He flipped the bacon with a flick of his fingers.

He wore dark grey trousers and dragon-hide shoes. His black button-up was rolled up to his elbows as he worked, and Hermione could just barely see the white lines of the faded Dark Mark on his forearm.

He looked… delicious.

She bit her thumbnail as he worked in silence.

"Do you often bite your nails when you're nervous?"

He looked up at her from where he was chopping the stems off the strawberries. She glared at him.

"Am I not allowed to? Is that an 'instruction' I need to follow?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Just wondering. Perhaps I could schedule you for a manicure later today."

Glowering at him, she hissed, "If I'd like a manicure, I'll schedule one myself, thanks."

He grinned down at the fruit. "I'd have thought you were a morning person, Granger. Is that not the case?"

She crossed her arms. "I _am_ a morning person. When it's _my_ morning."

"Ah," he said, popping a strawberry into his mouth and chewing slowly. He gazed at her. "You're feeling out of control. So you're lashing out."

She gaped at him, struggling to come up with a response to such a ridiculous thing to say. He smiled and turned to pull the kettle off the stove just as it started to whistle.

"I've brought something for you to look over," he said, and with a wave of his hand, a crisp piece of parchment appeared on the counter below her elbows. The neat handwriting that she recognized from his office memos sent a shiver of unpleasantness through her.

But then Hermione's eyes caught on the words and phrases written down in a list, most of them unintelligible to her. Several words were with other words, and her brain struggled to make them make sense together. Such as:

"Anal fisting?" She looked up at him, horrified.

He smiled down at the teacup he was filling for her. "I see we're jumping right to it."

"Um. No. No, no. I don't even know what… no."

"It's almost exactly what it sounds like."

"And, what?" she squeaked. "This is a list of things you'd like to do with me?"

He shook his head with a coy smile, bringing a teacup to her before returning to plate the bacon.

"This is a rather comprehensive list of BDSM acts and scenes. It's for you to review and communicate with me what you like and what you absolutely do not like."

"Well, I can tell you right now that anal fisting is off the table. Hope you won't be too disappointed." She took a sip from her teacup. (Damn him. He could make a cuppa.) She lifted a brow at him, and said, "Unless, of course, _you_ were the one being fisted in this scenario?"

He turned to look at her slowly, a brow arching. "Is that something you'd be interested in, Granger?"

Damn. That's not how he was supposed to react. She doubled-down.

"You've been on the receiving end of some anal fisting, Malfoy?" She smiled at him from over her teacup. The way he grinned back at her before pouring the eggs into the pan sent her brain spinning. She couldn't form a coherent thought for several moments. But the most prevailing thought was— "Have… has every one of your subs been female?"

He laughed. "Granger, don't tell me you think a little pegging makes a bloke gay. I thought you were far more open-minded than that." He stirred the eggs while she blushed. "But since you asked, yes, all of my subs have been female. I am only interested in women."

She pressed her lips together, trying to come up with some kind of response. She settled for: "I'm sure half the population mourns the loss."

She turned back to the list. There were words she could not even pronounce. And as she started at the top and worked her way down, she felt her cheeks flush and her chest tighten. She was done with the first column already, and despite not knowing half of the terms, she had not found a single item that she was interested in. She was in over her head.

"What are some of your favorites?" she asked, voice climbing high anxiously.

"_My_ favorites?" He finished the eggs, seasoned them with salt and pepper, and brought two plates over to her dining table. "That's not really the point. The list is for your desires."

Hermione pressed her lips together. She climbed down off her stool and joined him at the table with the list just as he pulled a chair out for her.

"And… what if I…" She hesitated. It's possible this would end before it even began. She plopped into the chair and tried again. "My list of interests might be very small."

He sat across from her and watched her closely. "Alright."

"Alright?"

He nodded. "I'd like for you to make notations. Which ones are 'no,' which ones are 'maybe.' And then we can discuss the 'maybes.' How does that sound?"

She swallowed and nodded. She conjured a quill wordlessly, and started at the top.

"Later," he said. She looked up from where she'd bent over the parchment to find him smiling softly at her. "Breakfast first. Take your time with it. Do your research. I know you love research." He winked at her as his teacup came to his lips.

She picked up her fork and aimlessly began to pick at her eggs. She still felt this was doomed. Her eyes cast over the list again, wondering if there was anything on that list she was truly interested in. Anything that actually struck a chord with her. Why did she even want to do this?

"You're thinking too hard, Granger."

She blinked up at him. He popped a grape between his lips, watching her. Frowning, she ate a few pieces of orange melon before speaking, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

"I'm just thinking… that I might not be any good at this. And—and if I'm not, you can tell me. We don't have to—" She took a deep breath. "You don't have to be stuck with me for a month if I'm not—"

"You were quite good with your mouth, Granger," he said conversationally. Hermione felt her neck flush. "Wherever did you learn how to give such a devastating blow job?"

He set his fork down on the dish, and leaned back, casting his arm across the back of the neighboring chair.

She took a bite of her eggs in avoidance. (Damn him. They were good.)

"Books mainly. At the beginning." She looked away from him as he started to smile, low and catlike. "And some Muggle pornography, I guess."

"Hermione Granger learned how to deep throat from research," he said, as if it were a footnote in a book that he'd only just remembered.

It felt like he was teasing her. She scowled and bit into her bacon. "I'm not some blushing virgin, you know. I've been in relationships—"

"Yes, and now I'm asking for the names of the blokes who've had your lips on their cocks."

Hermione blinked. Oh. He was a sly one, wasn't he?

She inhaled the eggs before clearing her throat. "Alright. Well, I was with McLaggen on and off last year," she said. His face gave no reaction to that. "I was with a Muggle boy for about a month and we… well, yes we were intimate. And Ron and I were together for about a year after the war."

He sat forward abruptly, picking up their plates. "Yes, I remember. And did any of those boys know how to please you?"

She watched him stand fluidly, moving to her sink and muttering the spell for dishwashing and drying. She didn't miss how he'd called them "boys."

"We had a fine time," she settled on.

He turned, leaning back on the kitchen counter and crossing his arms. "That's not what I asked you."

Hermione swallowed. "I came. Most of the time I came."

"How many times?"

She bit her lip, feeling her chest tighten and her cheeks flame. "Umm, I can't really… I mean, usually I don't come more than once, so…"

He stared at her, open and appraisingly. "_Usually_, you don't fuck me."

Her stomach flipped. "I'm just trying to temper your expectations, Malfoy."

"Oh, you're going to have four orgasms this morning, Granger," he said casually, strolling out of the kitchen. "Why don't you give me a tour of your flat?"

She stared after him, lips open with nothing intelligent to say in response. Her mind snapped to attention as she watched Draco Malfoy head down the hallway to her bedroom.

"Um! Wait!" She scrambled out of her chair, and stumbled after him.

He poked his head into the bathroom. "You don't have a bath?"

Her messy counter, her towels on the floor, possibly her bra was still hanging on the back of the door—

She hurried to shut the door, almost snapping it on his face. "I—I have a shower. It's common in this area to have smaller bathrooms."

He stared down at her with an amused expression. "Is there space for two?"

She blinked up at him, lips moving over silent words.

"Possibly. I don't— I wouldn't—"

"Is this your bedroom?"

And then he was walking away, inching closer to the half-open door at the end of the hall.

"Stop! Wait! Stop! Can I…"

He stopped, turning around with an innocent expression. "Yes?"

"If I could just… Give me two minutes, or… Just… If you could wait here for one second."

She slipped past him, ignoring his smirk, and closed the door behind her, taking in the state of her bedroom. She was _never_ this messy, but of course today — the day Draco Malfoy wanted to fuck her sideways — her room looked like it had survived a natural disaster.

She raced for her wand on her bedside table, flicked it towards her clothes and shoes, and ran through the tornado of dirty laundry to her bed to strip her sheets. She was charming the clean sheets to make the bed themselves when she heard from behind her, "That's awfully presumptuous of you, Granger. I just wanted a tour."

Malfoy was leaning in the doorway, watching her fluff pillows and almost spray lavender on the sheets. She flushed.

"I just… wasn't expecting visitors."

He hummed and invited himself into her room, looking at the pictures on the walls and examining her overflowing bookshelves. He ran his fingers over the spines carefully, as if drifting across skin. She had to look away from his hands.

By the time he moved closer to her bed, she was almost bouncing with anticipation. Which was probably why she didn't think to hide what lay on her bedside table:

The two toys he'd sent the night before. The pink one, still in its box. The purple one laying innocently on the table from where she'd dropped it after washing it off the night before.

His eyes hovered on them. Hermione wondered what was more mortifying: Draco Malfoy buying her sex toys, or Draco Malfoy finding out that she used the sex toys he bought her.

"This one didn't come with packaging?" he said, looking at the purple one.

She shifted on her feet. "Um, no it did."

He turned a slow intent gaze on her. "Did you not see my instructions?"

His eyes were dark, centered on her. She felt like she'd gotten the wrong answer in class.

"Um…"

"So you disobeyed me?" he said. "On day one?"

She checked his expression. He was serious. Serious, but not angry, despite the sharp edge to his voice.

"What happens now?" she asked, teasing. "Do you 'spank' me?"

He turned to face her fully and let his eyes dance over her body before coming back to her face. "Do you want me to?"

Warmth blossomed in her chest, rising slowly up her neck to her cheeks. She'd seen that on the list. Spanking had never been a part of her sexual practices. Cormac had slapped her backside a few times in jest, but never in the bedroom. Never his bare hand across the skin of her arse.

Hermione snorted, pushing away the images floating through her mind. "Right," she said, lamely, eyes looking down to her bare feet. She was still in her pajamas. She looked fucking ridiculous.

"Come here."

She blinked at his command. His voice was low and earthy, beckoning her forward. She swallowed and obeyed.

Her legs took her closer to him, and she found she couldn't look him directly in the eyes when he stared at her like that. Like he was about to chase her down in the woods.

When she stopped in front of him, his hand reached up to push away a curl that had fallen out of her sleeping bun and then cupped her jaw. She was about to offer to change into something a little more provocative — maybe run a spell over her hair — when he kissed her.

Softer than the night before, flipping her stomach and twitching her fingers. His tongue pressed into her, opening her mouth and twisting with her own. His fingers curled into the hair behind her ear, holding her in place. She kissed him back, letting her tongue slip forward and pressing up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

His lips slid across her jaw, dipping down to her neck and teasing her. She gasped as his hands drifted down her throat, over her clavicles, and curved over her breasts before slipping down to the elastic of her waistband. Her fingertips grazed the hair on the back of his neck, and she was delighted to feel him shiver.

Quick as a flash, he pushed her pajama bottoms over the curve of her backside and then his hands were on her arse, squeezing her close. He sucked her earlobe in between his lips, and released it with a smack before whispering, "Did you come?"

Her mind was a little fuzzy, so she simply said, "Huh?"

"Last night." He grazed her neck with his teeth. "With the toy you weren't supposed to use."

"I… Yes. I did."

He hummed into her skin. "And I wasn't here to witness it?" He played with the edges of her knickers, following the line of them across her cheeks. "Will you show me?"

"Will I… what?"

"Show me," he whispered into her ear. And it wasn't so much a clarification as it was a command. "How you made yourself come. I want to watch you play with yourself."

Hermione shivered. "That's… Why?" Awkwardness winning out, she laughed. "You can't possibly… I mean, I could suck you off again?"

He pulled his mouth from her ear and stared down at her. "It wasn't a suggestion."

Pressing her lips together to keep from biting back, Hermione moved to her bedside table on shaking legs. She grabbed up the purple toy. It was penetrative with a vibrating attachment for clit stimulation (and it did sort of look like a rabbit, the more she considered it). She had gotten off the night before in record time. And it had been the only time in her life that she could remember coming twice in less than twenty minutes. She'd made sounds that she wished she could forget, they were so mortifying.

And now Draco Malfoy wanted her to do it again. With him watching.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she shucked off her pajama bottoms and climbed on her mattress, taking the toy with her. She settled back on her pillows and ignored the other presence in the room, until he said, "Warm yourself up, Granger."

He stood at the foot of her bed, looking quite relaxed — hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side.

She glared at him. "Any other requests?"

His brows lifted in amusement, and then he said, "Take off your knickers. And your top."

She felt her cheeks heat. Logically, she knew he'd be seeing her naked at some point if they continued this… thing. But that moment was _now_.

She peeled off her knickers, rolling them down her hips in what was probably the least-sexy thing Draco Malfoy had witnessed in his life. She tossed them towards her laundry basket, and before she could think too much about it, she gripped the hem of the t-shirt she'd worn to bed, and tugged it up and off. She lay back on her pillows, knees pressed together, and stared at the ceiling.

"Happy?" she grumbled.

"I could be happier," his voice lilted from the foot of the bed. "Open your legs."

She sighed, and let her knees fall open.

"You keep huffing and puffing like that every time I give you an order, and I _will_ have to spank you."

Heat flooded her chest. She felt it spreading across her skin like wildfire. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to imagine what that would be like _at all_.

She took a deep breath and slipped a hand between her legs. She swiped her fingers low, finding a little bit of moisture that she brought up to her clit. When she started slow circles and soft touches, Hermione quickly realized that there was no possible way she would be able to come like this. She was tense. She was anxious. She was doing _nothing _for her own arousal.

"Have you ever touched yourself in front of someone else?" he asked, reading her mind. Possibly reading her awkward and uninspired movements.

"No," she answered honestly. "Usually if I'm getting naked with someone it's for… more direct reasons."

She tried switching up her rhythm. Still wasn't quite working.

"That's a shame. You look gorgeous with your fingers on your clit."

And her belly twisted, something deep coiling tighter. She inhaled silently, and focused intently on the ceiling.

"Will you show me what they look like buried in your cunt?"

Swallowing, she slipped her fingers down and pressed one slowly inside of herself.

"Good girl."

Hermione shivered. And then a wave of guilt and shame crested over her. She wasn't a dog…

She tried a few more thrusts of her finger, but usually this part did nothing for her. She moved her other hand down her belly to swirl her clit. She started getting frustrated again.

"Would it help if I joined you?"

She snapped her eyes down to him. His fingers were playing with the buckle of his belt, his gaze on her.

"Do you… do you mean you would… wank? While I…?"

He nodded, his expression easy, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

She chuckled nervously. "I thought you promised me four orgasms. Aren't you afraid of losing steam too quickly?"

"Why don't you let me worry about that," he said, unbuttoning his trousers. And before she could try a different argument, he was pushing them down below his hips. "Rub your clit, Granger." His hand moved to the outline of his cock in his tight black trunks.

She didn't think she could blush any harder, but here she was, red all over at the image of Draco Malfoy cupping himself while her fingers slid back up to her clit. The nails on her other hand dug into the skin on her upper thigh.

Yeah, this was working better.

"Do you ever touch your tits while you wank?"

Her eyes left his groin and met his gaze. His cheeks were a little pink as well.

"Um. No, not really. Would—would you like me to?"

He shook his head. "Just curious."

And then he pulled his cock free from his trunks. He was hard already. His hand glided over himself softly, too light to be truly pleasurable.

When she realized her breathing was uneven, and her eyes hadn't left his cock, she turned back to the ceiling, trying to relax.

"What do you think about when you wank, Granger?"

But it seemed he wouldn't let her.

She stammered for a bit before replying, "Not much? I don't really…" She swallowed. "What do you think about?"

"Recently, this."

The coil twisted tighter.

She breathed a laugh. "Me, wanking?"

"Or you spread open for me. Or your tits bouncing. Or the sounds you make."

Her thighs tightened even though he was teasing her. Her fingers slipped through her wetness, gliding quickly over herself.

The bed dipped, and she jerked to see him crawling towards her. He came to kneel in front of her open thighs and gripped his cock again, fisting himself tightly. She couldn't look anywhere else.

"Can you open wider for me?"

She tilted her hips, opening her thighs wider, bringing her knee higher.

"Good girl. So good."

Her cunt throbbed. She moaned, and slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Don't cover your mouth."

Her hand dropped next to her head, fingers fisting in the pillow.

"Good."

She could feel her climax rising. Just out of reach. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her breath was ragged as she rubbed her clit faster.

"That's it. A little more, love."

And then his hand dropped to her calf, pushing her open more, stretching her muscles until they burned. She could feel his knees come to bracket her hips, scooting closer to her. The heavy sounds of his hand on his cock.

"Touch me. Please," she heard herself say. Her face scrunched in embarrassment, turning to hide in the pillow.

The hand on her leg squeezed. "You're doing just fine, yourself. Come on, love. Get nice and ready for me."

"I am. I am."

"Almost there." His breath was heavy too, panting quickly in the silence of her bedroom.

She opened her eyes, hoping for just a quick glance at what Draco Malfoy looked like with his hand on his cock, staring at her fingers working her clit. But his eyes were on her face. They were black and hot.

Her walls fluttered. Her breath caught, and her thigh jumped under his hand.

So close.

So close.

Her fingers twisted in her pillow.

She gasped, her jaw dropping open.

"Fuck. Granger—fuck."

Her back arched and her walls clenched around nothing, just as his cock spurted over her fingers and cunt, his come splashing on her hip and thigh. A moan wrenched from her throat, the coil inside of her releasing.

When her eyes refocused, she found him looking down at the mess he'd made, looking almost as shocked as she felt. She caught her breath, and removed her hand from between her legs.

The sticky fluid cooled on her fingers, just a few drops. She felt him staring at her, and a delicious feeling spun through her — almost as good as the orgasm that had just crested through her. She'd made him come.

Hermione met his eyes, listening to the way his breath shuddered. She lifted her wet fingers to her mouth, and licked them clean for him, sucking the digits between her lips.

He watched her, his heavy breathing suddenly absent. His eyes grew even darker, if possible. When her fingers were clean, she let them pop out of her mouth in (what she hoped was) an attractive way.

Malfoy moved quickly, turning to the side and grabbing the purple toy. Her eyes widened as he grabbed her thighs and dragged her down the bed a few inches. Her cunt was still throbbing as he brought the dildo to rest against her entrance.

"I… I might not… I mean, I just came, so—"

"We'll take it slow."

And the toy slotted inside of her, pushing forward gently. She was slick, her muscles relaxed. Her head dropped back on the pillow, and she lay there as Malfoy's hand ran up and down her thigh soothingly. He pressed the button, and the external bit for clit stimulation buzzed. Her legs jumped, her hips twisted to press back into the bed, away from the vibrations.

He pressed a hand down on her stomach. "Do you want to know why you can use the other toy and not this one?" he asked.

A groan burst from her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to relax against the feeling of fullness, the stimulation on her clit. She thought of the other toy — the pink one, unopened. It was a simple vibrator.

"Why?"

He dragged the dildo out of her before slowly pushing in again.

"Because nothing is allowed inside of your cunt unless I'm here to watch it sink inside of you, Granger."

He pressed the vibration against her clit.

Her hands jumped to her face. She hissed, pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Is that clear?" he said.

She nodded, head moving quickly under her hands, starting to gasp for air.

"Is that clear?" he repeated.

"Yes!"

The dildo slipped out of her again, almost fully, before he pressed it back inside of her again.

"Take your hands off your face."

She heard him. She just couldn't do it. Her arms were tight and her face was contorted into something hideous—

"Don't make me repeat myself." He pressed a button and the vibrator buzzed higher.

She yelped, slapping her hands down to the bed. Her hips tightened, a pressure at the base of her spine twisting.

The hand on her stomach slipped higher, teasing her slowly as it crept between her breasts.

"Can I touch your tits, Granger?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, and grimaced. She was staring at the ceiling, but she just _knew_ Draco Malfoy was smirking at her.

His hand slid to her breast, cupping her, squeezing the mound. The toy slid forward again just as he flicked her nipple with his thumb, and she cried out.

There was a very embarrassing squelching noise filling the room along with her heavy breathing, and she tried to tune it out as he fucked her with the dildo and rubbed tight circles over her breast.

He pulled her nipple between two fingers and pinched her hard. She squeaked, but then he was rubbing, soothing the skin. "Too hard?"

She wasn't sure. It wasn't… pleasant. But…

"If you can't take anymore, say 'Red.' If we need to slow down, say 'Yellow,' alright?"

She wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she said, "Alright."

And then he pinched her again. Her chest jumped. He ducked his head and pulled her abused nipple between his lips, running his tongue along her flesh. She gasped, her knees curling up near her waist.

He slid the toy inside of her, set the vibration on low, and pressed the rabbit ears her clit. She hissed, but then he was moving to cover her, his stomach pressing the toy tightly to her while his clothed chest pressed down on her stomach. Each hand covered one of her breasts. His lips kissed and sucked at her sternum as his fingers played with her.

Her hands jumped to his shoulders, fisting his shirt. The weight of his stomach against the vibrator, pressing into her clit—

She gasped, groaning and shifting her hips.

He tweaked her nipples together, sucking a bruise into the side of her left breast.

There was so much happening, and yet not enough. She wanted the toy turned off. She wanted the toy turned _up_. She wanted his mouth on her breast again. She wanted his mouth on hers.

Her hands slid into his hair and started to drag his lips to her breast.

"Hands on mattress, Granger."

She whimpered. "Please. Please, Malfoy—"

"On the mattress or I'll tie them there."

Her palms slapped down, fingers twisting in her comforter. Her hips were shifting, pressing up against him, pushing the toy deeper and deeper, slipping the vibrator against her clit.

He pinched her nipple _hard_, his fingers holding like a clamp. She cried out, shifting away from him.

"Is that too hard? Can you take that?"

She moaned in response. His mouth dropped over that breast, sucking softly, tongue laving the flesh. His other hand pinched her other nipple.

"Oh, my god." Her knees bent up to her chest, squeezing his shoulders.

His mouth switched to her other breast, soothing.

Her hips were jerking under him, fucking herself on the toy while her fingers tore at the sheets and her back arched under his fingers.

He kept switching breasts, squeezing one too hard, letting his mouth sooth it while his other hand started to pinch her other nipple.

She was whimpering, making nonsense sounds. She felt so far from orgasm, but so close. Like it was something she was chasing.

"Malfoy, please. Please. Please."

"Please, 'what?'" he mumbled with her nipple in her mouth.

"I need— I need—"

"Tell me, Granger. If you ask for it, I'll give it to you."

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pinched her other nipple. It was there. It was right there—

"Please…"

"You're being so good, do you know that?"

Her walls fluttered. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough.

"Let me… Let me come. I need it—"

"Say 'please,' like a good girl."

His teeth scraped over her nipple. And she started gasping, choking.

"Please! I need to come! Please let me—"

"You'll never touch this toy again?"

"Never! I'll be good. I'll be so good—"

One of his hands darted between them. His lips wrapped around her breast, sucking hard. He pressed a button, and the vibrations on her clit skyrocketed.

She screamed, her hands slapping to his shoulders, tugging at his shirt. Her chest arched into his mouth, and her cunt clamped down on the toy. Her voice was strangled and unintelligible as she bucked under him, her thighs shaking and her stomach muscles jumping as everything inside of her clenched.

She drifted down, her spine lowering back to the bed and her legs tremoring with the aftershocks. The buzzing on her clit was insistent, and there was nowhere to escape it, nowhere to go—

"Off," she rasped. "Please turn it off."

He did. His hand stretched over her hip, rubbing away the tension. His mouth was sucking at the underside of her breast, his nose nuzzling the skin. He sat up, and she felt the absence of his weight like a slap in the face.

He dragged the toy out of her slowly. She didn't want to think about the mess on the sheets below her.

He tugged the pillow out from under her head, laid it next to her on the mattress, and then wrapped an arm under her boneless body and sat her up.

"How are you?" he asked.

Her eyes drifted open, and she couldn't help the dizzy smile that crossed her face.

"I need you to take a little more."

She blinked, not sure what he meant. And that's when she noticed he was hard again, pressing against her hip.

"Can you take a little more?" He ran his thumb over her mouth, his eyes watching the way her lips parted.

_Could_ she take a little more? Could they take a little breather maybe? For an hour or twenty?

But she nodded and said, "Yes."

He held her jaw softly as he leaned forward and kissed her. His lips moved slowly over hers, the hand around her waist squeezing her close.

When he pulled away, his hand reached up and tugged the band out of her messy bun, letting her hair fall in a mass over her face and shoulder. He pushed her curls back and said, "Lie on your stomach, hips on the pillow."

He guided her to where he wanted her. She was diagonal across her bed, her arse lifted by the pillow. He arranged her legs to straighten out and relax. She rested her chin on her arms, like she was getting a massage.

She'd heard things about positions like this. Cormac had often asked her to turn over like this, on her hands and knees.

"Don't want to look at my face while you fuck me, Malfoy?" she teased, her orgasms having loosened her tongue.

"On the contrary, Granger." She heard the sounds of his trousers dropping, his shirt falling to the floor somewhere. The bed dipped behind her as he climbed over her. "I want to stare at your arse while I fuck you."

She laughed. He didn't.

He straddled her hips, letting his hands coast over her back, sliding down to fill his palms with her backside. He tugged at her hips to angle them to him. She felt his cock, heavy and hot against her.

She felt him nudging at her entrance — the slick slide of him pushing in, spreading her open. She'd forgotten what she'd learned last night: he was larger than she'd ever had before.

She bit down on her hand, her thighs tightening and her stomach quivering as a whine left her throat.

"Shh. You take me so good."

He kept pushing in. Her legs were trapped between his, and her body could do nothing but take him.

His hands massaged her backside, rubbing his fingers up into her lower back until finally his hips met hers, his cock fully buried in her.

Her face was turned into the bed, her eyes squeezing closed and her teeth biting into her lip.

"So good."

His hand threaded through her hair, pushing it to the side as he leaned down to lay a kiss between her shoulder blades.

And then his hips were withdrawing, dragging his cock along her walls, and pushing back in. Her jaw dropped open, a sigh muffled into the comforter.

He rolled his hips, fucking her with a rhythm that was almost too fast, but also not enough. His cock thrust in quickly, dragging out slowly.

She thought maybe this was designed to make her go mad. She certainly didn't need to come again. It was his turn. But the coil was winding slowly inside of her again. And his rhythm was doing nothing but twisting it tighter.

His hands dropped to her arse, squeezing tight but also anchoring himself as he started to go faster. She moaned and listened to his breathing run ragged.

"You're so tight, Granger." And she felt herself get tighter. He growled. "Gonna fuck you like you deserve. You've been so good."

Her shoulders rolled. Her arms stretched out, threading her fingers in the sheets. His hand snapped to her elbows, dragging them back in toward her body, and leaning forward to pin them to the bed.

The angle changed. She saw white.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Are you— what's—"

She stammered, feeling her walls tighten and release and tighten. Her arms struggled under his hands, jerking to get closer and further away from the pleasure.

"Good girl. Almost there."

"What are you do— why—?"

His hips started slamming into hers, bouncing off her arse and then pushing back again. And every time he thrust inside, he pressed against something—

"No. No don't—"

She dug her face into the mattress.

"Red or yellow, Granger."

She didn't want him to stop. She didn't want to slow down. She was barrelling towards something like a train off its tracks.

He tugged at a fistful of her hair, turning her head to the side.

"Red?"

"No."

The hand in her hair tugged, and her chest arched off the bed, his lips attached to her neck, sucking and biting.

Her body was bent like a bow, a string ready to snap. Her legs bent at the knees, her feet curling toward him.

"Oh fuck—"

She wanted more. And less.

He sped up. Hips slapping against her, breath panting in her ear, fingers tugging at her scalp. He was moaning words into her shoulder. She could make them out every so often when her vision wasn't going white.

"—feel you come on my cock—such a good girl—deserve this—don't deserve you—"

Her mind went blank. She felt him thrusting still, heard herself scream, felt her walls clenching and the rush of liquid heat in her belly. But there was nothing in her brain but numbing pleasure.

When the world returned to her, she found herself staring at her ceiling. Malfoy was on top of her, lips on her neck, cock thrusting deep inside of her, holding her bent leg to his chest. She had a faint memory of him flipping her over, kissing her mouth as she babbled nonsense, and continuing to fuck her.

Her body was limp. She threw her arms around his neck to anchor herself to reality. She caught her breath and listened to him groan into her skin.

He reached down and covered her breast with his hand, letting his fingers slide over her. She jerked when he thumbed her nipple, a spike of tension coursing through her veins. He did it again, and she tilted her head back. His teeth ran over her throat.

His hand drifted lower, holding her hip as he thrust forward, and then his fingers were at her clit.

"Oh!" She almost smacked her head into his jaw. "What— You don't—"

"Red?"

His eyes were bottomless as he panted over her face.

He brushed her clit again, and her cunt contracted. His eyes squeezed closed and she cried out.

"No more. Please, Malfoy. I can't—"

"Red?"

"You don't have to. I feel so good, please don't—"

"Red?"

He swirled her clit, and her head dropped to the mattress.

"This is unnecessary," she groaned.

He laughed against her cheek. "One more, Granger. I owe you one more."

He hitched her knee up higher, and continued thrusting, his cock so deep inside of her, she felt herself growing wetter and wetter on every thrust.

"I can't come again. I c-can't."

"You were made for this, Granger." His voice was low in her ear as he bit on her earlobe. "Made to be fucked."

He pressed on her clit. And it was so quick, she hardly took a breath to cry out.

She gripped him like a vice, her knees pressing close to his chest, her neck arching as her mouth formed a silent scream. He moaned a handful of curses until he stilled, pulsing inside of her.

She sucked in air like she'd been underwater for years. His teeth dug into her neck, and her hands were in his hair. There were black spots in her eyes as she lay there, fluttering around him. His come and hers were leaking out of her. He had one hand on her hip, and the other in her curls.

He was kissing her neck, soft drops of his lips against her skin. He worked his way up her jaw and pressed a final kiss to her lips. She let her eyes flutter closed.

He rolled over, summoned his wand, and started muttering healing spells against the bruises and bite marks on her skin.

By the time he got to her breasts, Hermione had drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up hours later, she was on clean sheets, a warm blanket tucked around her. And a note that read:

_See you at work on Monday_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No update schedule at this time.
> 
> Find me on [ Tumblr ](https://lovesbitca8.tumblr.com/) and [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/).


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